


A sticky situation

by embeer2004



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Consensual Possession, Dry Humping, Dubious Consent, Light Bondage, M/M, Other, arachnomorph, ghost - Freeform, spider webbing, sticky situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23632873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embeer2004/pseuds/embeer2004
Summary: Vlodimir hasn't pleasured himself in ages, then along comes Geralt with a whole new body to toy with. The perfect situation arises and both Vlodimir and Geralt end up having an experience they will remember for a long good time…
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Witold von Everec | Vlodimir von Everec
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38
Collections: Witcher Kinkmeme Collection





	A sticky situation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BawdyBean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BawdyBean/gifts).



> Notes: Set during Dead Man’s Party in Hearts of Stone.  
> Fill for the kinkmeme prompt: Vlodimir von Everec/Geralt-- Ghostly Possession.

“Come on, Geralt! Don’t be a sourpuss!” Vlodimir griped, lifting the fire-eater’s cap up to his eyes. “The man’s a pathetic wimp. You seen him, right? He let that puppy chase him into the tree; he had it coming!”  
  
Geralt would have rolled his eyes if he could, but right now von Everec’s ghost was gleefully riding his body, controlling his every move. _“You saw the dog’s house, commented on it yourself,”_ Geralt thought at him, _“inclined to believe some part of the drunk sap’s story.”  
_  
Vlodimir hummed and tucked the performer’s cap away in one of his pockets. “You know, I did a fair bit of juggling, back in the days. I suppose I could give a little performance of my own when we get back?” And that actually sounded a bit like the man was trying to apologise. “Certainly bound to impress that sweet strawberry lass of yours.”  
  
At least Geralt could still mentally roll his eyes. He had a feeling that if Vlodimir had still been alive, he and Dandelion would get on like a house on fire. Small mercies the two of them had never met and never would. _“Like she said, you’re not her type. Though she certainly seems to be enjoying herself,”_ he admitted grudgingly, feeling a dull stinging in his gut.   
  
“Why naturally!” Vlodimir exclaimed, hopping down and making a wet mess of Geralt’s boots as he slogged through the water, following the little brook up instead of down, to where they should be going. “I know what pleases the lasses, and this one just needs a bit of extra attention before the lovely flower will lose some of her prickly thorns and I can caress her sweet petals.”  
  
There were perfectly fine stepping stones available to cross the water _without_ getting his boots all wet, Geralt huffily thought to himself as he tried to look to the grassy knoll uphill, but Vlodimir kept his gaze focused downwards. _“Going the wrong way,”_ he told Vlodimir, imagining pulling on Roach’ reins to get the ghost to stop moving.   
  
Vlodimir easily stepped onto the right bank and continued upwards. “No, I’m not.”  
  
 _“Going to the Garin estate if you keep on heading this way,”_ Geralt thought at him. _“Thought you and Olgierd were familiar with these parts?”_  
  
“We are, I am!” Vlodimir gritted out, still continuing upwards. “Just a small detour.” He stopped and lifted his hand, pointing towards the grassy hill. “Just beyond that is a field. One full of roses, if the Garins are still in business.”  
  
Geralt could feel a mental eyebrow creeping up. _“You’re going to pick **flowers**?”_  
  
“Not just any flowers. I’m going to pick a bouquet of _red_ roses and give it to Shani; just before I’m gonna invite her to a dance and then up to the attic for a _chat_.”  
  
 _“Huh.”_ That reminded Geralt of a party several years ago in Vizima. He wasn’t worried about Shani though; her interactions with Vlodimir proved she could easily handle him, and so far von Everec was doing his best to charm her yet the ghost hadn’t stepped over a boundary. Yet.  
  
And a deal’s a deal…  
  
The moment Vlodimir started walking downhill something started niggling at Geralt’s mind. There was something he was forgetting…  
  
When the still smouldering remains of the Garin estate became visible in the distance, Geralt remembered.  
  
The sound of scuttling reached his ears, and he knew Vlodimir had heard it as well.  
  
“What’s that scuttling sound?” Vlodimir asked, coming to a halt.  
  
 _“Arachnomorphs,”_ Geralt thought at him, _“big hairy spiders the size of a horse.”  
  
_ “And you are capable of fighting these, are you witcher,” Vlodimir murmured pensively, clearly not asking. Geralt felt a grin splitting his own face in half as Vlodimir started walking _towards_ the sounds.  
  
 _“No. Go back!”_ Geralt urged, wishing there were actual reins to pull so he could stop the fool-headed ghost.   
  
“Time for some witchering,” Vlodimir husked, holding up a hand. “Now how do I make some signs? Like that mind control you did on the puppy? Oh, but I wanna do that!”   
  
_“That’s not going to work on the spiders. Listen to me, von Everec: turn back!”_ Geralt fought against the ghost’s hold on his body. He really needed to figure out a way to exorcise a ghost once they were already inside him; this happened way too frequently.  
  
“What about one of your other signs then?” Vlodimir asked, but he stopped moving towards the sounds. “Fire, can you do fire? You must, right? All those stories of fire-breathing witchers…”  
  
 _“ **Vlodimir** ,”_ Geralt hissed, _“I don’t have my swords and I don’t have my oils. Signs alone against one of these won’t be enough, and you can’t enjoy the party **if I’m dead.** ”  
_  
At that, a small shiver ran through Geralt’s body and he felt his fingers curl. “Fine witcher, you win. But I’m still going to pick those roses for our beloved surgeon lady.”  
  
A small win and only some damaged pride, but it was too late.   
  
“ _Give me back control, **now**!” _Geralt tried to shout.  
  
There was a hiss, and then something flew at him, hitting him in the chest; something white and sticky. Another hiss and another shot of webbing slammed into his body, and Geralt was knocked down to the ground from the force of it.  
  
He found himself lying on his back; the sticky webbing covering him all the way from his shoulders to his calves, trapping his arms and his legs. He’d been in a similar position before though, he knew what to do…  
  
 _“Vlodimir, I can get out of this, but you need to leave my body,”_ Geralt urged, willing the ghost to do as he was asked for once, instead of fighting him on it.  
  
A loud shrieking to his left startled him, and the arachnomorph as well it seemed, as the large spider lifted itself onto its hind legs and hissed angrily, clicking its beak, before scuttling out of sight.  
  
The weight that had been on his chest lifted all of a sudden; a weight Geralt hadn’t even known was there until the large beast disappeared.   
  
He felt his brow furrowing. “Plough it, that beast was _huge._ What was that other thing?” Vlodimir asked quietly, sounding nervous. “Banshee?”  
  
 _“Wild boar.”_ Geralt tried to move his arms so he could rip free from the sticky webbing. He could hear the sounds of squealing and scuttling getting softer and softer, but he didn’t want to stay here all evening. He was no fly after all. _“Now’s a good time to get us out of this mess. I’m strong enough to break the webbing, just **move** , Vlodimir. Or let me do it.”   
_  
He waited, hoping von Everec would be quick about it.  
  
Instead, Geralt was intensely aware as his breathing and his heartbeat sped up, and his body started to feel warm all over.  
  
It wasn’t the spider webbing; at least, the sticky threads weren’t poisonous.   
  
His hips jerked upward and a pleasant tingle shot through his body.  
  
Not his reaction.  
  
 _“You have got to be kidding me. Come on, get us out, von Everec!”_ Geralt mentally hissed at the ghost.  
  
 _“_ Calm your horses,” Vlodimir grunted, sucking in a large gulp of air. The ghost rotated Geralt’s hips, drawing small circles with them, and a soft moan escaped his lips as he struggled lightly against the webbing.  
  
Geralt’s body trembled and the warm feeling turned into a blazing heat, spreading from his chest towards his limbs.   
  
“Plough it, Geralt,” Vlodimir breathed, “this feels better than wooing the lasses, no matter how pretty they are. I think the party can wait for a bit; that is if you don’t mind.”  
  
The use of his actual name shook Geralt out of the angry funk he’d been settling into. “Giving up on Shani and the lasses, are you?”  
  
“Don’t sulk, Geralt,” Vlodimir said as calm as he could, and Geralt felt his muscles tense up as Vlodimir rolled him over onto his belly. “You’re to see I enjoy myself, correct? Well I just thought of a way to make that possible. We’ll both enjoy ourselves like this.” Vlodimir pushed his hips downwards, rubbing Geralt’s crotch over the ground.  
  
Geralt gasped, and he was too focused on the pleasurable sensation to think of a witty reply.  
  
“Ah, now you get it,” Vlodimir crooned at him, giving a little wiggle and closing his eyes in pleasure. “I haven’t had a good shag or wank in ages.” He lifted Geralt’s hips before pushing them down to the ground again, and Geralt felt his cock twitching.  
  
Geralt couldn’t tell if it was his own interest or Vlodimir’s. The only thing that mattered right now was how _good_ this felt, and he wanted _more_. But… _“It isn’t safe here!”_ He reminded von Everec’s ghost.  
  
“So you’d better keep an ear out for any monsters,” Vlodimir told him as he gyrated his hips, creating a heavier friction. Geralt felt the way his arms lightly pushed against their webbed prison, but clearly not in a way that would free him. The soft moans coming from his mouth and the way his eyes rolled as he rubbed himself all over the ground were signs enough that Vlodimir was enjoying the situation.   
  
_“You ever done this before?”_ Geralt asked, finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the sounds around him with the way his heart was racing in his chest and with how his blood was rushing through his ears.  
  
“N-no,” Vlodimir breathed before tensing up and rolling Geralt so he lay flat on his back. “Not the von Everec style, this. Just wenches and simple wanking…”  
  
Geralt missed the pressure of before that had been _oh so delectable_ , but his body continued to feel all tingly as Vlodimir raised his butt off the ground and bent his knees a little.  
  
 _“Hands…”_ Geralt thought. If von Everec would only let him have free use of his hands he’d show him just how good he could make himself feel; make them _both_ feel.  
  
“No, I don’t think so…” Vlodimir shook his head and, with a forceful shove, rolled Geralt onto his front again and started humping the ground like a legless dog. “Been… there… done… that,” the ghost grunted with each hump, rubbing his cheek over the cool earth. “Now _this_ … I will remember this. The way you _feel_ , witcher… it’s _amazing_.”   
  
There was a tightness at the base of his trapped cock, the only warning Geralt had before his entire body was wrecked with debilitating shudders. Geralt felt the cool wetness appearing behind his codpiece and he would’ve scrunched his nose if he’d been in control. Instead, Vlodimir rubbed his cheek over the cool ground as his body kept on twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm.   
  
“Should’ve figured this out _years_ ago,” Vlodimir managed to get out once the wrecking shudders had stopped. He wriggled a bit in his bonds, trying to spread Geralt’s knees and to reach a hand down before sighing and giving up. Focusing on breathing for just a while longer.  
  
Geralt felt too tired to fight Vlodimir, and as he didn’t hear anything that could form a danger to him he gave in and focused on the way his body felt: still all tingly, but more warm and comforting now than hot and intense. He could sleep now, actually.  
  
He didn’t know how long he lay there, but he could feel the familiar trickling shiver of a ghost leaving his body, and when he looked up Geralt saw Vlodimir’s spectre crouching over him. The ghost’s hand hovered over the webbing and then Vlodimir’s eyes shone with appreciation. “So this is what it looked like. Delicious!” He reached out to him, but his hand ghosted through his crotch area. Sighing, Vlodimir tilted his head down at him. “I think I’m ready to return now, witcher.”   
  
It took him a moment too long to remember that he was in control of his body again, but when he did Geralt struggled only a few times within his webby prison to get his hands free. From there on it was easy to cast a small igni and burn a path through the webbing, making the material dry and brittle so it easily fell from his body. Finally he stood up again, and he was glad that his borrowed ornate robe hid the evidence of his release.  
  
“I think a little detour through the rose fields is a must now, Geralt,” Vlodimir told him as he slipped back into Geralt’s body and lazily started walking. “I think a red rose would look lovely in your hair. Throw in a dance with you and that lovely lass when we’re back at the party and I’ll make sure my brother receives the proof he needs that you’ve shown me the time of my life.” Geralt felt his lips pulling up in a smile as Vlodimir slowly shook his head. “Good old Olgierd, such a good brother. Always looking out for me.”   
  
Feeling all relaxed and calm, Geralt was content to let Vlodimir’s ghost control his body, at least until midnight as they’d agreed. The party would still be in full swing for several hours and he was looking forward to seeing von Everec’s promised juggling skills… and the dance with Shani before the capping ceremony.  
  
Perhaps he’d get to spend some real time with her after this, after all, O’Dimm wouldn’t begrudge him one night, would he?   
  
**The end**


End file.
